Her Boss's Brother
by CinderellaAtTheBall
Summary: Unfortunately, as long as she had bills to pay, the job was here to stay. Her shirt, however, was not... A Fremione meet-cute. Muggle/Modern/Office!AU.


_Written for Pairing the Character at Hogwarts! _

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**Her Boss's Brother**

Hermione let out a strangled expletive as hot coffee splashed onto her new white blouse. She had just bought the crisp, no-nonsense shirt, hoping it would communicate that she was serious about her job. Now, all it said was, "I am a serious mess."

Perhaps that wasn't quite fair. After all, no one worked longer or harder than Hermione Granger. But it was true that her life was not exactly going to plan. She'd had dreams, _big_ dreams, but she had quickly realized that no one appreciated her dedication nearly as much as they ought to. As it was, she'd been forced to take a job pushing paper rather than enacting change in the field as she had hoped.

Unfortunately, as long as she had bills to pay, the job was here to stay. Her shirt, however, was not.

She gingerly peeled the wet garment away from her skin. No sooner had she pulled the shirt over her curls, however, than the door to her office swung open.

Hermione turned, squeaked, and rushed to cover her modest beige bra with her hands. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" she snapped, then froze. The man standing before her bore an uncanny resemblance to her boss, Percy. He had the same flaming red hair and freckled skin, but where Percy was lanky, this man was shorter, stockier.

"I have heard of it, but I thought I'd surprise my dear brother," the man said, shielding his eyes but not quite managing to hide a slight smirk. "Do you know where I might find the office of Percy Weasley, prat extraordinaire?"

"Next door," Hermione answered, her face flaming. She grabbed her black cardigan from the back of her desk chair and thrust it around her shoulders, amazed at how dextrously her fingers buttoned it up given her embarrassed state. "He's in 117, I'm in 116. Anyway, you can look now."

"And look I shall," the man said, casting his gaze over her appraisingly. "I'm Fred, by the way. And who, pray tell, might you be?"

"Hermione." She stuck her hand out for him to shake. "Hermione Granger."

"Ah, yes, my brother speaks very highly of you," Fred said cheerfully. "He made your intelligence known, of course, but he made no mention of your beauty."

Hermione blushed again. "You're a real charmer, aren't you, Fred?"

"I like to think so," he replied, flashing her an easy smile. On second thought, perhaps "cocky" was more apt a description.

"Of course you do," she muttered under her breath. Louder, she said, "If I were you, I'd go see Percy now. He's got an important meeting in—" she checked her watch "—thirteen minutes."

"What about you? Got anything important on the docket, Miss Granger?" Fred asked.

"I—no, I'm afraid not," she sighed, thinking wistfully of the hours she would spend at her desk, a glorified paper-pusher. "And you needn't bother with that 'Miss Granger' nonsense. Everyone calls me Hermione. It's my name, after all."

"Well, Hermione—" her heart rate sped up at the sound of her name falling from his lips "—I suppose I must be getting on to see Percy, remind him that Mum wants him 'round for dinner tonight. I don't suppose you'd like to come along?"

"Absolutely not." Hermione's reply came out sharper than she had intended. In a softer tone, she added, "It would hardly be appropriate, dining with my boss at his mother's home."

"Hang propriety!" Fred declared. "Besides, Mum makes a mean beef stew."

At those words, Hermione's stomach rumbled loudly, causing her cheeks to redden once more. She'd been in such a hurry that morning that she hadn't had time to grab any breakfast, and though she kept a few snacks in her desk for emergencies, she hadn't exactly had time to eat one yet.

"I'm sure she does," she said politely, her expression making it clear that Fred was not to mention what had just occurred. "But I stand by what I said. I have no interest in being the subject of office gossip."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's your loss, I reckon."

"I think I'll live," Hermione said, turning back to her desk. "Close the door behind you when you go, please."

A moment later, the charismatic redhead was gone, but after a few minutes, she heard a faint rustling noise. She spun her chair around quickly, heart pounding. Her eyes fell on a sheet of paper that had apparently been slipped under her office door. Her brow furrowed, she picked it up and read a hastily scrawled letter:

_Hermione,_

_You said no to dinner at Mum's, but what do you say to dinner at The Wolseley? This Friday, 5 o'clock. I'll pick you up at the office. _

_Fred (aka your boss's handsome brother)_

_P.S. If you truly must turn me down, I'm including my mobile number so that you'll be saved the trouble of rejecting me in person. I do hope you'll take a chance on me, though. I promise you won't regret it! _

Hermione snorted and shook her head. Fred's cockiness was undeniable, but she was drawn to his playfulness. And — the thought struck her before she could help herself — it didn't hurt that he was related to her boss. She didn't want to _use _him, but if he happened to mention to Percy that she deserved a raise or promotion, that was hardly her fault…

Smiling, she pulled out her mobile and tapped in the number Fred had written.

_Hermione here_, she typed into a new text message. _Not turning you down - accepting. See you Friday. _

The end of the week couldn't come soon enough.

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Word count: 943


End file.
